


love & war

by ladywongs



Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse)
Genre: Angst, Drama & Romance, F/M, Implied Sexual Content, Post-RE4, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-01
Updated: 2019-02-01
Packaged: 2019-10-20 04:32:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,281
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17615531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladywongs/pseuds/ladywongs
Summary: “You appear out of nowhere after… how many months? No, wait, ayear. Awholeyear, or maybe more than that, I don’t even…” he quits his complaint, stopping in the middle to drink all the wine from his glass in one sip, and then grabbing the bottle to pour out some more. He blinks, like a confused puppy, and turns to her, as if he’s suddenly remembering something. “And, hold on, how do you even know where I live?”“I have my contacts,” she adds bluntly, like it isn’t a big deal.Leon huffs, expecting that kind of answer from her. He doesn’t expect more, he doesn’t expect less.“Yeah, sure,” he scoffs, irony overflowing from every one of his pores. No calls, no letters, no e-mails, and the number she had given him was no longer available. She had vanished again, coming back by surprise and expecting he wouldn’t notice her longing absence. “Well, don’t expect me to welcome you with a piece of cake and a red balloon, if that’s what you want.”Lover, hunter, friend, and enemy. Leon would always be every one of these. Because nothing was fair in love and war.





	love & war

**Author's Note:**

> oh god, I have so much to say, please bear with me!
> 
> Capcom has multiple times confirmed pretty much the fact that Leon and Ada had occasionally seen each other outside their job, so this is somehow my personal take on it: Ada comes and goes like a cat, only appearing at his door when she can/wants/needs him. This takes place a year? or so, after RE4, so both are still quite young. I haven't written of this ship since 2013 so I'm so anxious lmao. 
> 
> I always try to write Ada as a woman with feelings (something Capcom sometimes fails to do, ugh) but even though she continuously helps Leon at the end, I like to think she's not 100% good and I enjoy writing her as someone who loves him, but also someone who is prone to betray him or just do what is convenient to her. We... still don't know how good or evil Ada really is, but my angsty ass still clings to the idea of evilspy—goodagent falling in love so yeah, yolo.

 

* * *

  

 **In life, in love, this time I can't afford to lose**  
**For one, for all, I'll do what I have to do**  
**You can't understand, it's all part of the plan**

**—o—**

“You’re angry.”

It isn’t a question, it’s an affirmation. Leon snorts ironically, expression growing distant, and his eyes never meet her, not even once. He’s ignoring her deliberately but, the truth is, he doesn’t need to, he doesn’t need to  _see_  her to know what she’s doing; the way she rolls her eyes to one side with evident annoyance, the tender sigh that escapes her parted lips now and then, or the way her eyes move back towards him again after a long pause, studying his cold—and quite absurd—demeanor. Ada was like a vivid nightmare in his mind, a memory you could visualize without having it in front of you, if that made any sense. Her expressions, the sound of her footsteps, even her cold replies, he knew them all very well.

But there was always something squirming inside of him, a pulsing thought.

The thought that, in the end, he didn’t know _enough._

Ada drifts her gaze away from him, her lower back slightly resting against the worn out wooden table inside Leon’s apartment, taking a sip from her glass of wine and staring at Leon sinking lazily on his couch, beholding the fancy TV he had the opportunity to buy thanks to his generous salary as a government agent. However, Ada observes, he had a terrible sense of style, and his flat was a complete mess. No decoration, no paintings, no bright and luring colors on the walls, everything was plain and boring, a mess of papers and gear and gun parts scattered everywhere. She couldn’t blame him, though, Leon couldn’t stay more than a week without being called by the president to take jobs outside the city and, sometimes, the country. There is no point in trying to make this place look like a home.

She understands that feeling very well.

Leon’s plans to ignore her fail miserably. He starts ranting, eyes glued on the TV.

“You appear out of nowhere after… how many months? No, wait, a _year._ A _whole_  year, or maybe more than that, I don’t even…” he quits his complaint, stopping in the middle to drink all the wine from his glass in one sip, and then grabbing the bottle to pour out some more. He blinks, like a confused puppy, and turns to her, as if he’s suddenly remembering something. “And, hold on, how do you even know where I live?”

“I have my contacts,” she adds bluntly, like it isn’t a big deal.

Leon huffs, expecting that kind of answer from her. He doesn’t expect more, he doesn’t expect less.

“Yeah, sure,” he scoffs, irony overflowing from every one of his pores. No calls, no letters, no e-mails, and the number she had given him was no longer available. She had vanished again, coming back by surprise and expecting he wouldn’t notice her longing absence. “Well, don’t expect me to welcome you with a piece of cake and a red balloon, if that’s what you want.”

“I have a busy life, Leon,” Ada says, as if talking to a child, arms crossed over her chest and one of them holding the glass. “Most of the time I’m not even in the country. And I don’t like cake.”

Leon nods, getting himself comfortable on the couch.

“Yeah, busy being Wesker’s little puppet.”

This time, Ada squints her eyes, releasing a sharp and almost offended sigh.

“How  _rude._ I thought you’d be happy to see me,” she laments with evident irony, an attempt to bother him more, but Leon notices the way she evades his commentary, like if the word _Wesker_  isn’t even mentioned.

“You play with God or you play with the devil. And, just so you know, the devil and I aren’t in good terms right now.”

Ada smiles, a cheeky, amusing smile. He’s trying so hard not to look at her.

“I don’t usually enjoy playing other people’s games. I find it _boring._ ”

Leon blurts out a cold, salty chuckle, his lips mumbling something that sounds a lot like _“women”_ when something on the TV catches his full attention: the news reporting another bioterrorist attack in Germany, the number of infected on the screen increasing largely along with footage of BSAA members speaking to the cameras in a press conference, promising an upcoming solution to this imminent tragedy. Something inside of him squirms again, wondering if Ada had something to do with it. The reporter speaks again and in her words, Raccoon City never fails to be mentioned again. 

> _“Since the Raccoon City incident in 1998, biological warfare hasn’t met its end, the number of infected increases day after day and no military force seems to hold the answers we’re looking for, the solution to this never-ending nightmare. We want to remind you all that the safety checkpoints are back in operation in every airport of the country, our hospitals will continue to provide free medical supplies for those in need and the new program for blood donation is already running in hopes to find a cure, you will find all the information in your local hospitals if you want to apply. Before we leave, the BSAA remind us our daily preventive measures: make sure to carry your facemasks or N95 respirators with you everywhere. Keep your doors and windows locked during the night as well as following the regulations for curfew, and in the case of flu symptoms or unusual behaviors, report to your local hospital immediately. Remember to —“_

Suddenly, the TV turns off. Leon blinks, as if were dust in his eyes. He looks over at Ada, holding the remote control, her gaze down for a brief moment. They share a look, a silent one, and the moment he thinks he sees something within her eyes… something he can’t find a name for, the feeling is gone. She’s smirking again, the tragic events reported on the news rapidly cast aside. It’s bitter. So bitter.

“Why don’t you ask me how my day has been?” she inquires, tilting her face to one side. Her glass of wine is still full. “That’s what normal people do when they don’t see each other for quite some time.”

Leon stares at her for a second. She looks younger than he remembers, but then again he doesn’t really know _how_  he remembers her. Sometimes he sees the woman he kissed back in Raccoon City, the woman he fell in love with, the woman who died… and lied, and kept him thinking that she was gone forever, smiling at him years later as if nothing had ever happened. He doesn’t know who is he seeing right now, but it’s hard to look away. She’s dressed in a simple red tank top and jeans, her hair slightly shorter than the last time he’s seen her.

He drifts his gaze away before he does something stupid. He returns to his empty glass, ready to fill it up again. Ask her questions? What for? He wouldn’t be able to get a single honest answer from her no matter what he did, and he had tried, God _knows_  he’s tried.

“We are not normal people,” he whispers, and the tone of his voice doesn’t even reflect bitterness or coldness anymore.

He sounds defeated.

Ada studies him carefully as he fills the glass, slowly, and feels her smirk vanish away from her face. She takes a moment, nodding, and her voice is soft when she replies.

“Yes, you’re right,” slowly, she puts the glass back on the table behind her. “We’re not.”

With a sigh, Ada walks towards Leon, adverting his unsuspecting eyes when she rests her hands on his shoulders and uses him as balance to throw one leg at each side of his hips, taking a seat on his lap. Leon sighs, tiredly closing his eyes in a form of protest, but unable to pull away. His head rests deeply against the backrest, and the undeniable touch of his hand on her leg makes Ada’s insides twist uncontrollably. He could have pushed her away, no matter how grumpy he seemed to be. Over the past few years she had learned to love his weakness, the way his body shaped the need of her hands, they would fit in hers no matter the circumstances, no matter if she had little time or no time at all. She’d always had that effect on men, but Leon was different.

Leon was different.

That’s why she was still here, anyway. After all this time.

“You look tired,” Ada whispers, hands softly ruffling his hair, making him shiver underneath her. The pad of her fingers slide over his eye-bags, the softness of his parted lips, the hardness of his jawline, and finally onto his shoulders, where she adds a bit of pressure. “And tense.”

Leon swallows, and the bitterness in his eyes slowly abandons his body. Not all of it, but gradually. It’s happening.

“Having you here isn’t particularly relaxing,” he explains, but his features seem to betray him. His face is relaxed, despite the coldness of his words. His eyes look heavy and sleepy, and for someone who claims to be uncomfortable by her presence, he doesn’t seem to be doing a really good job at it. His eyes travel to every corner of her, they land on her lips, and the curve of her neck, where her collarbone glows like a jewel made of gold. He gazes down at one of his hands, too, slightly resting on her leg, closer and closer to her hip. Leon is drinking in her, the wine slowly forgotten, she’s intoxicating him. “I haven’t seen you in months.”

 _A year,_  something rapidly mutters inside of him, desperately trying to remind him. _Almost a year._

A year, indeed.

Ada puts on a faint smile, but it never reaches the glow in her eyes. He notices that, too, and it’s one of the things he thinks he’s learned about her over time. That the things she says, sometimes, don’t sound as exciting as she makes them sound. Like that one time when he asked her if she missed him, and she’d smiled, and said “not really” but he knew it, deep in her eyes, that it wasn’t true. Nothing about it was true, nothing about it was real. She would come and go as she pleased, giving him a call whenever she needed him, always from an unknown number, never daring to give him one of her own. One of his coworkers had asked him about it once, about the way he would answer unknown calls so thoughtlessly, about how dangerous it could be due to his position inside the government. Hadn’t he ever heard of hackers? Or extortion calls? It didn’t matter, Leon didn’t care, he didn’t _care._ For he was always there, picking every single phone-call with no remorse, opening every door that she would knock on a lonely evening, like tonight, his only free day in months—but it didn’t matter, because Ada knew he wouldn’t leave her there waiting for him. He couldn’t.

He can’t.

And Ada does not care, either. One of her brows raise playfully at his comment, hands gently rubbing his shoulders.

“Oh,” she scoffs, like talking to a child. “You missed me?”

But Leon isn’t smiling.

He looks at her, straight in the eyes. Leon doesn’t even recognize himself when he speaks.

“Yes,” he echoes, and Ada’s playful grin is gone in a second. He sees her swallow sharply, eyes blinking. “I missed you.”

She clearly wasn’t expecting his honesty, his rawness. It burns her, all the scars on her body burn deeply when she’s near him, and she likes it. She loves it. The pain, the adrenaline, to be able to _feel_  something in a life full of fake smiles and fake names, fake numbers and fake words. But Leon never sees that, and he doesn’t seem to care, and maybe that’s the reason Ada is also unable to let him go. In here, within the confined walls of Leon’s apartment, she feels real, like a real human being and not a piece of ice for people to use as they please. She’s alone in this world, if she died tomorrow no one would care, no one would notice, that’s what being a mercenary means. Would Leon care? Would Leon grieve her death, if she had to die again?

Ada’s fingertips caress his lower lip and all the smiles are long gone now. Leon twitches at her touch, lifting his hand to touch her wrist. He looks down at it, holding it in his hands and his brows furrow slightly when he notices a long scar starting from her wrist and up to her arm. It’s still red, he can tell it’s recent. She didn’t have it before.

“You’re hurt,” he babbles, touching the wound with his fingers.

But Ada has her eyes on him, moved by his concern.

She wishes she could do that, too. Show concern, call him more often to make sure he’s alright. She has her ways, though, being a spy it isn’t that hard to track him down and get info of his wellbeing, but Ada is like a shadow, and stepping aside can be the biggest expression of concern she can grant him. She’s dangerous, being around her is dangerous, and she knows she’s taking a huge risk by coming to his apartment like this.

“It’s nothing, handsome,” she murmurs, shaking her head. Leon looks in pain, parting his lips to speak, but she stops him. “It’s nothing.”

Like being lured by a powerful spell, Leon’s gaze meets her lips and swallows, slowly, before deciding to kiss her. It doesn’t come as a surprise, and Leon doesn’t expect Ada to feel that way. He knows she has him in the palm of her hand, and at this point Leon’s pride becomes non-existent.

Ada clings her arms firmly around his neck, pulling him closer more desperately than he thought she would. Her hands cradle his face and his squeeze the dip of her spine, sitting up straight to deepen the kiss. And, you see, the saddest part is that Leon always says it’s for good, that this time will be the last, that he won’t fall again into her endless circle of lies, that he will finally put an end to the toxic nature that surrounds them but it’s never enough, and he has become an expert of lying too. An expert to lying to himself.

That’s why each time he believes will be the last, decides to enjoy it as such. It’s always rushed, and desperate, like there’s no room for love, like there’s no room for tomorrow. They say nothing, nothing that it’s meaningful and special, nothing that requires feelings and things getting in the way of the fire that consumes them. And it makes him angry, the way she disregards his clothes the same way she does with him, using his body like a piece of clothing that soon will be cast aside for something else.

Ada’s eyes fall shut when she feels him against her, when his lips crave the flavor of her neck and he tastes it. Her hands sink deep into his hair, breathing betraying her calm demeanor and she knows her thoughts start to betray her too the moment her lips part to say something, something that is dangerous and forbidden, something she’s never said to anyone, not even to him. The words don’t come out, and she doesn’t force them to. If she ends up saying them… she won’t be able to do what she came here for in the first place.

Leon kisses her slowly, tentatively, savoring the sin on her tongue. He lifts her up and her legs find a place around his hips, like a snake wrapping around its prey. Leon takes her to his bedroom, to his bed that awaits for their presence and there are heavy sighs, and whimpers, and open-mouthed kisses. Her tongue and the trace of nasty words, his sweat and the saltiness of it, her blood and his pain, his fire and her ice. Red lipstick scattered all over his neck and the mark of his teeth tattooed on her shoulder. Ada tries to whisper something, things she shouldn’t say and he hushes them with a kiss—don’t say it—but he enjoys the pain.

_Lie to me again._

Because there are lies that shatter, corrupt and distort his sanity. Lies that make him bleed and break his bones apart, and he has no other choice but to kiss her again so she won’t speak again. Because Leon can stand many lies ( _I only want you. I need you. You’re beautiful._ ) but there are blasphemies that ravage him way too much, and then he can’t heal by himself.

_(Don’t listen, don’t listen, don’t listen.)_

Ada Wong cuts him in a thousand pieces, and that’s the only thing he wants to feel.

Things end way too soon, as it always does. The moment he stares at the ceiling for a while, lips empty of words and eyes slowly fighting the impulse to fall asleep, Ada realizes that he could have every woman he wanted. He’s handsome and young, charming, a great lover… he could have anyone at his feet, yet he is unable to shut her out when she arrives at his door, unable to say _no_ to her because he has other compromises. Sometimes, Ada wishes he would, for once, push her away. Everything would be easier that way.

She tells him that, the first honest thing she’s able to say in a while, but Leon’s expression doesn’t change. He doesn’t even look at her. Hours pass by and he falls asleep, tiredly, profoundly, and Ada remains at his side, sliding the pad of her finger through his naked shoulder, treasuring his skin and remembering all the times she’s saved it. He will probably regret this tomorrow morning when he wakes up without the scent of her by his side. He will regret it, too, once he finds out what she’s about to do.

Silently, Ada leans against him, pressing a kiss on his shoulder, and another, the last one, before slowly grabbing the sheets and wrapping her body in them to walk away from the bed. Without making any sound, Ada tiptoes away from the bedroom, giving Leon one last glance before venturing herself into the living room and wandering around until she finds what she’s looking for: his black briefcase. It’s on the floor, in front of the window and a mess of papers and brown folders. Ada bends down and carefully takes a white napkin to open the briefcase, careful that her hands won’t get in direct contact with the material. Inside the case, at the center of it, lies a small blue USB memory. She takes it, wrapping it her napkin, and closes the briefcase.

Ada abandons his flat soon after that, fully dressed and holding her phone right against her ear.

“I got it, yes,” she whispers, looking up at the window of Leon’s bedroom, where she’s left him. “Right. See you soon.”

With a sigh, Ada puts the phone back in her jacket, glancing at the window one last time. “I’m sorry, Leon,” her lips whisper under the cold night as she ventures deeper into the darkness.

Lover, hunter, friend, and enemy. Leon would always be every one of these. Because nothing was fair in love and war.

 


End file.
